Bored
by gumcrunch
Summary: It was quite a slow night.


"Days like these, I feel so…"

Fitz sighed, and crammed a fistful of pretzels in his mouth. "—normal."

He curled up in his seat and cast a dramatic look out the window, squeezing his bowl tighter between his chest and his knees. Skye snorted in amusement behind him as she walked into the lounge. She flopped down on the couch next to Simmons who seemed to be busy reading a directory-looking book. The mug that was steaming on the coffee table in front caught Skye's attention and she raised an inquiring eyebrow at Simmons, who was quick to mouth 'tea.'

"Yes, it _does _seem quite mellow tonight, doesn't it?," she remarked as she put her book down and nodded at Skye, who immediately reached for the mug and took a sip.

"Mellow? I think the word you're looking for is full-on dead," Skye returned the mug to the table and looked towards the seat at the other end of the room. Ward was comfortably slouched on the chair, head resting on the window, arms crossed over his abdomen, eyes shut, and a world away in deep slumber.

"Poor guy," Skye tsked. "Only _extreme_ boredom can lull boredom himself to sleep."

Fitz eased out of his position and looked at the other two helplessly.

"You think we'd feel better if we paint on him again?"

They didn't seem too enthusiastic about it.

"Oh, but we've already done that four times, Fitz. It's gotten a little old now, don't you think?," Simmons moped.

"Well, we could use the night-night pistol dummies for a little variation. Like that paintball thing? We could shoot at him with paints, yea?"

"Except, I don't have any more paints," Skye sighed.

The three of them stared into space. Not a word coming out of anyone, until Fitz popped another pretzel in his mouth and chewed, cutting the silence.

"If I could figure out a way to zap my brain-"

"Why would you want to do that?"

May asked, interrupting Fitz before he could finish his sentence. She sauntered into the lounge and took the seat directly in front of him.

"I lack stimulation."

The other two chimed in agreement.

"There is totally just nothing to do—"

"We've gone through the board games, card games, video games—"

"You can try cleaning the plane," Ward's voice came up behind them.

"Very funny," "Oh, you've woken up," Skye and Simmons replied at the same time.

May shook her head and stood up.

"Too much whining," she walked towards the coffee table and grabbed the remote.

"Don't bother. Nothing good is on," Skye huffed and let her head fall on Simmons's shoulder.

"Hey, I just realized we could use vegetable dye," Fitz snapped his fingers like a light bulb just went off in his head. "We could still paintgun Ward. Have we got any more beets?"

"You do realize that I am fully awake and can hear you, right?" Ward clenched his jaw, staring Fitz down and back to his seat.

"Relax, no one's painting over anyone," May calmed them down as she carried on fiddling with the remote some more. She clicked on something then turned around to look at the four curious faces behind her.

"If it would help, there _is_ karaoke."

Twenty minutes later…

"This was your idea?"

Coulson turned towards May with a puzzled, unsure look on his face; his arms crossed in front of him.

"They were bored," she shrugged.

The two of them shared a smile, until Skye's and Simmons's voices tore through the room screaming the last line of '_Girls Just Wanna Have Fun_' in the microphone.

"Okay, my turn!," Fitz put his beer down and reached for the mic. Skye waved his hand away.

"No, one more song."

"But you just ripped through _Girls Have Fun_. When do I get to have my turn?"

"You got to sing three in a row, Fitz!"

"Oh, cool, I like this one! _Bette Davis Eyes_!"

"_The Scientist_ is not three songs. It is just one song and it's a very beautiful song. If you had listened—"

"Okay, all in agreement? _Bette Davis Eyes_?"

"Well, forgive me for falling asleep in the middle of it. It was certainly—"

"Fitz, your beer is spilling."

"_… and she knows just what it takes to make a pro blush. All the boys think she's a spy…_"

"What was that wink for?"

"Yea, I saw that, Skye."

"I think we all did—"

"_she's got Bette Davis eyes… _What? I was playing. Don't get any ideas, Ward… _she'll let you take her home…"_

"Fitz, your beer. It's spilling on the carpet."

"Oh, shit."

May was half-smiling at Ward, who was noting Coulson's horrified expression at the beer bottles, soda cans, crisps packets, and sweets wrappers strewn on the floor. The other three began fighting over the mic as soon as the song finished.

"Yo, AC!," Skye called out, breaking Coulson's concentration. "Why don't you grace us with your voice over here, boss?"

A couple hours after…

"_Shake Your Groove Thing_. Fitz is singing, Skye's playing drums with the empty bottles, and Simmons is passed out on the couch," Coulson reported as he sat down on the wing beside May, both hands holding a beer each. "The lounge is a mess."

May smirked and took the bottle from Coulson's left hand. "So they'll have something to do tomorrow."

"I think they finished half of the fridge."

"And tomorrow, they'll finish off the coffee and aspirin stock on hand."

Coulson looked at her, almost sternly. "This was your fault. You _had _to entertain them."

May snorted and took a sip of beer.

He sighed. "Now, they know about the karaoke feature."

They exchanged amused looks and stayed in silence until they heard footsteps behind them.

"Sir, they're all asleep now."

Coulson nodded at Ward. "Good."

"I'll clean up the lounge as soon as I get them to their bunks. Do you need—"

"No, Ward, that's okay. The mess will be handled tomorrow."

Ward pursed his lips and remained where he was standing for a moment, expecting an order. He shifted his gaze from Coulson to May. Realizing they didn't need his presence, he went back into the plane.

May snickered audibly as soon as he left.

"I _did_ see him tear up after you sang that Richard Marx song."

Coulson shrugged, smiling. "I warned you. My voice can make men cry."

He began humming '_Wherever You Go_' and May chuckled again. She then lay on her back on the wing and stared into the sky. Coulson lay back as well, and folded his hands over his stomach.

"Hey, you didn't… sing."

"Maybe on another karaoke night."

She started humming _The Scientist._

"That's Fitz's song isn't it?," he turned towards her, but her eyes remained fixed to the sky. "I like that song."

A faint gust of wind blew through them. A huge grey cloud slightly veiling the full moon smudged its light into vague, chalky rays across the dark navy sky. The light dusting of stars piercing through the dark that moonlight can't reach.

"Bored…," Coulson furrowed his eyebrows and exhaled. "Do you ever get bored, Melinda?"

She hid a sneaky smile and turned towards him.

"Always."


End file.
